Faith in the Damned
by OutlastTheDark
Summary: What is faith? It was a question that seemed as simple as the rising sun to a young Kazuto, who had been raised under the watchful eye of the Church. But when a hidden darkness that has festered just out of view makes itself known to him, he soon finds himself questioning just what faith truly is. (Kazuto x Yuuki)


Chapter 1: Faith

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**Heyo!**

**Thought this would be an interesting idea for a little story. This whole concept first hit me when I saw that vampiric version of Yuuki with the ashen hair, and it's been festering ever since. Don't really have much of an update schedule with this, but I do know it'll be around 10 chapters long. Hope you enjoy the first chapter!**

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"What is faith?"

The instructor's voice echoed around the old musty classroom, bouncing off the walls and through the ears of the gathered children, all staring up at him as though he were a Shepard, leading his flock.

"Is it the belief in a force? A concept unseen?" He continued, his monotone voice echoing off the aging wooden walls, "Is it the foundations of trust you hold in another, or even within one's self?"

His finger tapped against the crude wooden podium, gazing down upon the congregation of young souls.

His children. His flock.

"Is it perhaps the- understatedly difficult- vow to hold fast to one's creed, even in the face of overwhelming dissent?" A gloved finger ran across antique wood as his voice fell to a sultry murmur, like a sorcerer weaving a spell, "Or is it merely the act of standing tall alongside those you've sworn to defend, even in the face of overwhelming adversity?"

A hand appeared in the small crowd, that of a raven haired young man, drawing a smile out onto the man's aging features.

It was his hand; the hand of the eldest of his dear flock, and his eventual successor. His raven hair stood out so plainly amongst the sea of chestnuts and reds, so distinct from the rest of his flock.

In more ways than one...

"Yes, Kazuto?"

"Father Heathcliff, when you've spoken of faith in the past, you've always addressed it as our loyalty to God."

"I have."

"Then," Kazuto continued, rising to his feet as he addressed the aging priest, "Why do you now imbue the concept of faith to more than just the Lord?"

"Because, my Children, you are of age to realize that upon our sinful world, one must have the foresight to place faith in more than just the Almighty." Father Heathcliff clarified, "You must have faith in each other, faith in yourselves...faith in me."

"I see," Kazuto mumbled, giving the silver haired man a bow before returning to his seat, "Forgive me, Father."

"Nonsense, my boy. You've done nothing to slight me." Father Heathcliff assured, laying his hand upon the Bible perched snugly on the altar, "You will soon stand alongside me, and one day stand alone, behind this podium. You've always had an inquisitive mind, and I feel it's best that inquisitive mind is nourished, so when that time comes, you are prepared."

"Though I'm sure all can agree that we hope to see such a date befall you later, rather than sooner, Heathcliff."

It was a new voice that called out over the class- echoing just over the creaking of the aging door swinging shut with a thunderous thunk. A voice that carried the authority of a soldier, yet the grade of a dancer.

The voice of...

"Ah..."

There stood an armored man, his azure blue locks shimmering softly in the dim steeple candlelight. With each step he took towards the altar, a wave of importance rippled alongside it, casting a tidal wave of authority that only someone like him could exude.

"Ah! Ser Diavel, what a pleasant surprise!... I rejoice to see the Lord has brought you to visit our humble church on this fine afternoon, my friend!..." Father Heathcliff exclaimed with glee, raising his arms to the air, as if showboating some grand display of revelry for the man, "Kazuto, would you go and retrieve an extra chair from the basement for our guest?"

Kazuto's eyes lingered upon him for only a moment. Upon Ser Diavel. The Azure Dragon of the Church of Aincrad; and the reigning lord of the province. For a moment he stood frozen, his breath snatched away by the sheer presence of such an important figure standing proudly in their crummy little country church, though he was quick to recover, shooting to his feet.

"O-Of course, Father Heathcliff."

"I'm not here for pleasantries, Father." Diavel began, taking a single step towards the altar, "I've come to ensure it's still locked-..."

"I know, I know, but please-... I insist." The Priest chuckled, motioning towards the small legion of wide eyes and curious expressions that met the knight, "It would do my Flock well to see the enforcer of the Lord's Will receiving mass, as they do."

"Very well, I suppose another few minutes can't hurt." Diavel abdicated, throwing a warm glance Kazuto's way, "Make haste, young man, I'd hate for you to miss a chunk of your lessons on my behalf."

Kazuto could only summon the willpower to nod at the man before jogging past the podium, disappearing down the hall towards the storeroom.

"So..." Diavel hummed, his eyes set even as he watched the raven-haired man disappear further into the church, "Does he know yet?"

Father Heathcliff paused, his eyes cast upon the leather-bound Bible that stared back up at him, as if mocking him.

"Children..." He began, motioning towards the massive doors from which Diavel had arrived, "I think it's time for you to take a small recess. We'll resume prayers soon."

"But, Father-..." One of the children began, only to be silenced by a single finger, hanging in the air.

"_Go_. We'll reconvene in an hour."

The entire group stood without a peep of further protest, offering the silver-haired man a bow, echoing out the same, "Yes, Father."

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As Kazuto strode through the halls of the church, he couldn't help but to let his mind wander. Through the knowledge that, most likely within the decade, the one standing upon that podium, looking over a crowd of young, aspiring faces would be him.

The job would certainly suit him well enough. He'd been trained since he had arrived at the church as a child. He knew this church like the back of his hand.

All except...

His pace slowed as he reached it; the old basement door, lying unassumingly just next to the entrance to the storeroom.

It was a generally unassuming thing, a wooden thing reinforced with wrought iron, as many other doors in the church were, and yet...something about it...something about it was just so unsettling. Every time Kazuto has dared to stride past it's frame, he would find himself wracked with waves of discomfort and disgust; a strange phenomena that had haunted him since the earliest days of his childhood.

The other members of the flock shared those sentiments, with not a single soul past Father Heathcliff himself daring to do so much as touch the perpetually-frosty surface of the door. They'd formed so many rumors over the years; a second storage room, the lab of some mad alchemist, a tunnel to some labyrinth of catacombs, and even a gate to hell itself.

Still, knowing there was a part of the church- however small it may have been- he hadn't explored always had eaten away at the young man. To know a place so intimately, yet not know a part at all; it was maddening.

What could be the harm, really, just taking a small peak? After all, he would be inheriting the church in only a few years anyhow- and if something went wrong, then he wouldn't need to look far for help, what with the illustrious Sir Diavel waiting just upstairs...

It was both this reasoning, along with a healthy sense of impulse, that drove him onwards, his shoulder driving the old wooden door open with an almost inaudible creek, though it might as well have been cannon-fire to the skittish young man.

And yet, once that door finally gave way, allowing the young man inside, Kazuto suddenly felt the weight of the phrase 'ignorance is bliss' hit him with all the force of Heaven itself.

"Wh-...Who?... What?..."

It was there, in that old, round chamber that it hung. An enshrouded figure, suspended there upon a crucifix of chain, their arms splayed out like some perverse mockery of the Shepard. A mess of ashen hair was barely visible in the murky blackness of the basement, leaving all but the few wispy strands that did appear through the seemingly misty air up to Kazuto's imagination.

That was...until it opened its eyes.

It wasn't until the glowing crimson orbs flashed to life, like a fierce candlelight piercing through the darkness of a midnight storm, that Kazuto finally felt his heart drop.

And his mind go blank...

"Well, now... And who are_ you_?..."


End file.
